Category Archives: Blog

You have seen my descent. Now watch my rising

It‘s been awhile since I last wrote a blog. But it‘s time to bring this thing to life again. What has been happening since my last post? Great many things! I was a little scared to write again when life started to go well for me, as if I was afraid that I might somehow jinx it if I publicly talked about it.

The second chemotherapy I underwent, thankfully worked! Then I had surgery on February 7th – 2017, where the tumour in my liver as well as part of the liver were removed and the tumours in my peritoneum were scraped. I spent three nights in an ICU before being moved to a general surgical ward at the hospital. In total I spent around 2 weeks in hospital recovering before was allowed to go home. I now have one seriously impressive scar that goes all the way from my chest to navel. Proof that I’m a survivor.

I‘m glad that I can now proudly share that I have indeed been cancer free since that surgery, or for nearly year and a half now. It‘s pretty remarkable considering only a year before the surgery, I was diagnosed with a stage 4 cancer and told that it was “possibly terminal“.  My surgeon and my oncologist did a great job and I‘ll be forever thankful to them and all the staff at the hospital that took care of me the time I was forced to spend there. But now I‘m on the road to recovery.

During the first few months of my recovery I spent some time at a rehabilitation centre called Heilsustofnun NLFI in Hveragerði, where I underwent a rehabilitation program which including exercise, walks, healthy-clean eating, as well as some spa treatments, physiotherapy as well as psychotherapy.

In the autumn last year I started my second phase of rehabilitation when I enrolled into political science graduate courses at the University Iceland. My lack of focus and poor memory was driving me crazy. My brain was in a fog caused by chemo and trauma. I needed to find my way out of this fog and feel sharp again. What better way to exercise the brain then to study something challenging. I chose political science because it’s a topic that has always interested me. I have found a great deal of difference in my memory and focus since I started my courses in end of August last year and now that I have completed my second set of final exams this beginning of May. I can‘t complain about my grades, they were quite good all considering how hard it was at the beginning when I walked out of class and couldn’t remember anything that had been discussed.

Now I am about to embark onto the third phase of my rehabilitation, where I will be focusing on my physical and mental health. Tomorrow morning I‘ll by flying to Paris, where I will be spending couple of days with a friend, before taking a train down to Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port, a town close to the border of Spain. There I will start my journey, the Camino de Santiago or the way of saint James. The walk from Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port to Santiago de Compostela is 791 km long. I have no idea if I will be able to complete it, but I will start the walk and do my best. If you want you can watch my journey trough my Instagram and my Instagram story. I will try to keep it updated as well as this blog during my journey of recovery. I still got long way ahead of me. It’s not as if as soon as you get all clear from the doctor that the battle is over and you are fully recovered. Cancer, chemotherapy and surgery have ravaged my body. Not to mention the psychological trauma that I am now dealing with as a result. One step at a time I am building myself up, physically and mentally. You have seen my descent. Now watch my rising.

Happy 2017!

Yesterday was the last day of the worst year of my life. Hopefully it will stay the worst year of my life. Hopefully my life can only get better from here on. Of course there were some good moments. Like when my father and brother married their significant others, when we moved into our cosy little house in the lovely town of Hveragerði and of course the day when I married the love of my life. The highlight of this Christmas and New Years Eve was having my lovely husband by my side. Something I had dreamt of for many years…since before we even met.

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in January last year I was diagnosed with a stage 4 primary peritoneal cancer and spent the whole of the year 2016 fighting that cancer, going trough 2 different chemo therapies, 6 rounds each therapy, I fought the system long and hard so I could marry my love and I lost a dear friend. 

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“Happy New Year!  Happy New Year! May we all have our hopes, our will to try. If we don’t we might as well lay down and die” sings the iconic pop group Abba. These words could not ring more truer to me than on the beginning of this new year 2017. I won’t give up my fight. I won’t lay down and die. All I have got to kick off this new year is hope and I will take my hope and ride it all the way. I have so much to offer and I am only just beginning to realise how much.

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Tomorrow I have a blood test and a CT scan and on 4th of January I will see my doctor and then I will know more how things stand for me right now and what I have to deal with this year and what I need to do to continue my fight. I swear this year I will eat better, take better care of myself, write and read more. These are my New Years resolutions.

0O7B9451_3Happy New Year everyone! May all of our dreams come true  this year and may we never lose hope or the will to try.

I would also like to express my sincere gratitude to all of you for the support I received last year, both financial and emotional. You helped making a difficult year more bearable. ♥

May justice always prevail!

IMG_8141To all my foreign friends who might be confused by all the media circus that has been surrounding me and Ravi for the past week or so. Here is the full story: On April 1st me and Ravi applied for marriage licence.

In the light of my cancer diagnoses in the beginning of this year, we came to realise that chemotherapy could possibly make me infertile. Therefor we were in a sudden rush to get Ravi to Iceland as swiftly as possible so we could freeze embryos. But to be able to freeze embryos, we had to be married first. However two days before the day we had chosen for our marriage, which was my mothers birthday April 7th, the Icelandic bureaucracy put a stop to our marriage plans, stating that Ravi’s bachelorhood certificate wasn’t valid because it didn’t look like some divorce papers from south India that they had been recently given. It did not matter to them that Ravi’s paper was stamped by all valid authorities in India, including the Uttarakhand district court, Magistrates court in Delhi, the ministry of External affairs in India and the Indian Embassy in Iceland. We were lucky however that the IVF clinic sympathized with our situation and gave us permission to freeze embryos so that I could start my chemotherapy as quickly as possible, just as long as we would be married when the embryos would be implanted.

Following the decision of the Icelandic bureaucracy (Sýslumaðurinn í Reykjavík), we decided to challenge their decision, quoting Icelandic marriage law where it says that if one or both persons getting married are seriously ill, no extra paperwork should be required. With this we handed in a medical certificate from my doctor to back it up. However it took them more than 3 months to answer us and when we finally received their answer they denied us once again to marry. But now time was of the essence, because Ravi’s temporary work and resident permit were about to expire, which meant that he would have to return to India and stay there for 6 months while his application for his temporary work and resident permit was once again approved. That meant that for these 6 months he would not be able to be with me or come to me if anything would have happened, for example if my health would have taken a turn for the worst, he’d be stuck in India.

Desperate times require desperate measures. The injustice we were being dealt was too obvious to ignore. We knew we had the right papers, we were not about to give up, so we took it to the media. Straight away help started pouring in. One of the people offering their assistance was a great legal mind that saw the obvious miss justice in all of this and that Ravi’s papers were more than valid. He helped us sue the decision again and this time he took it straight to the Iceland’s Ministry of Internal affairs. The Ministry of Internal affairs did not only overrule the decision of the Sýslumaðurinn í Reykjavík, thus allowing us now finally to marry, but as well promised to reconsider their work process when it comes to evaluating foreign papers in situations such as these. So the victory we have been able to push trough with our persistence, will not only affect us Ravi, but many other in similar position that will follow. May justice always prevail!

Holding up with the Gharwali Hindu tradition that one can not celebrate any festivities within a year from a close relatives death, Ravi’s father in this case, who passed away from cancer in December last year. Our wedding ceremony which will take place this upcoming week, will be a simple low-key ceremony and there will be no proper wedding party celebrated until next year. Hopefully then my health will have improved.

Thank you everybody for your help, strength and support during this battle. It was greatly appreciated.

It’s been a while…

I know it’s been a while since I last posted a blog. I will explain what has been going on as many things have happened since I last wrote a blog post.

I had made plans to write post around certain topics and had prepared them to some extend, but after my 3rd chemo (I have so far now had 5), I travelled north to stay with my father and to attend a 60th birthday party of a friend and neighbour who also is fighting cancer. I think the journey back and forth and the party, although they very pleasant, proofed to be a bit too much for me. I became ill when I came home with fever and ended up in hospital with an IV drip and antibiotics being pumped into my veins.

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The very next day I came from the hospital, we moved places. We had been staying in a rented flat in the centre of Reykjavík, but my mother suggested we would should buy together a flat so that I would have a secure home during my health struggle. However, as I am a patient and Ravi is a foreigner, only my mother was able to go through a credit approval for a loan. We realised early on that we could not afford to live in the Reykjavík area, so we looked for a home outside the city and found one in the wonderful town of Hveragerði, approximately 30 minutes drive from the city. Because I had just been discharged from the hospital I was not allowed to do anything or help with the moving. Not that I had any energy to do so. But it frustrated me that I was not able to help. It frustrates me immensely that my body can not keep up with my mind. My mind wants to do so many things, but my physical capacity is greatly restricted and it is driving me crazy.

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Hveragerði

Just as I was getting better I had my 4th chemo. The first week afterwards was tough as per usual, but the weeks that followed were much better. I could feel that the change of location was proofing to be beneficial for me. I was feeling happy in my new home, but lacking the motivation to write again. I had a CT scan during these days and met with my doctor the following week, who told me that the cancer had stopped growing, which is a very good thing as it stops growing before it starts shrinking.  I was also given a blood transfusion as I have been severely lacking blood for months, which could not be improved with B12 shots or Iron tablets. I am very thankful to those people who gave that blood and to anyone who ever has. It really changed my energy levels. I felt as if I had been living like a zombie for a long time.

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Me and Ravi drove north that same day, after my blood transfusion. We had been invited to my fathers and his girlfriends birthday party, which turned out to be a surprise wedding. I knew this all along of course because I had to ask my doctor to postpone my chemotherapy for a week so I could participate in the wedding.

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My family @ my fathers wedding

After the 5th chemo I got the flue again and was feeling quite under the weather for a while. Once I started to feel a little better I became very busy again. I had an interview with a newspaper journalist and participated in a group discussion about what it’s like being a patient, with the national radio, whilst preparing for my brothers wedding which is taking place this weekend. My interview will be in the Sunday paper of the Morgunblaðið newspaper and I will let you know later when the radio discussion will be aired.

Emotional Rollercoaster

IMG_7209Ravi arrived in Iceland on March 31st. It had been awhile since I had smiled or laughed as sincerely. He really is my ray of sun (the name Ravi means sun). We planned to get married as soon as we could so we could get on with the IVF treatment and freeze the embryos. The sooner we could finish that, the sooner I could start chemotherapy. It had already been nearly 3 months since I was diagnosed with cancer and the pressure of getting him to the country in time for everything, had been overwhelming. So on April 1st we applied to get married and reserved Thursday April 7th for the ceremony, which is my mothers birthday. We bought the wedding rings, took my dress for dry cleaning, planned the feast and ordered the bouquet. After all we didn’t expect anything to go wrong. We had researched and planned well and prepared what papers we needed to bring to apply for the marriage license and how to get them. However getting the marriage permit wasn’t going to be as easy as I had hoped. I will tell you more about that some other day. I don’t want to rock to boat too much right now, as we are working on fixing the situation. But I can tell you this, according to marriage law in Iceland, if either individual getting married is seriously ill, they should not have to go trough any extra paperwork, which is why we know this situation will be corrected and we will be able to go ahead and marry as previously planned.IMG_7365

Thankfully the staff at the IVF clinic have been really understanding about our situation and how pressing it is to get this done so I can have my chemotherapy and they told us that they would freeze our embryos now, just as long as we are married when they are placed in me. That was a huge burden taken off my already frail and sick body and mind. It has all been such an emotional rollercoaster and I have feared for my mental health as well as my physical one. It’s been allot of pressure put on one person, if having stage 4 cancer wasn’t already enough. The overwhelming pressure of getting Ravi to the country, dealing with immigration, our struggle to be allowed to get married, freezing embryos in time before chemotherapy, all the troubles we have had with that and on top of everything, loosing my childhood friend. I sometimes wonder how I am still getting out of bed in the morning. The good news is that we managed to get one strong embryo out of the IVF treatment, which has now been frozen. In the beginning they managed to get 9 eggs from me, 8 were fertilized with Ravi’s sperm, however only one survived and we are calling it our little fighter. It is my little ray of hope and I will look forward getting to know it, once all of this is over.

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The Three Pointed Star

On March 29, I received the most dreadful news. My dear childhood friend Marin Rós, had passed away suddenly. The grieve that filled my heart was overwhelming. Why did this have to happen? She was supposed to live a long and fruitful life. This incredibly bright and beautiful girl, so bubbly and full of live. Wonderful mother and extraordinary person. This was so unfair.

Marin, her sister Anna and me dressing up for the beach during winter

Marin, her sister Anna and me dressing up for the beach during winter

I met Marin when I moved to the tiny village of Hólar at the age of 12. Hólar was the best place I had ever lived at. The school was great and kids where friendly. We were 4 girls in the class and all got on really well. Me, Magga Jóna, Katrín and Marin. Magga Jóna was from a farm in the valley and us, the other tree, all lived at Hólar. We soon became the best of friends and inseparable in all. The principle at our school called us “þrístyrnið”, a 3 pointed star. We endured puberty together and all that entails. First period, bras, boys and throwing the coolest parties. But we also loved doing other things too like exploring the area around Hólar, making prank calls, taking photos and developing them at the darkroom at school, hanging out at the school library between classes reading book, dancing like no one was watching, singing from the top of our voices and other cool things we thought up and made happen. It really was the greatest part of my childhood.

Me & Katrín reading one of Marin's Seventeen Magazines

Me & Katrín reading one of Marin’s Seventeen Magazines

When we went off to college, we got separated and for the next decade we did not see much of each other, but when we did it was wonderful and as if we had never been a part. But then the most horrible thing happened, in 2011 our dear Katrin passed away after a difficult fight with breast cancer. It was a great loss and brought me and Marin back together in our grieve. The same year I moved abroad, first England, then Sweden, Norway and eventually India. During this time Marin was fighting depression and addiction to prescription drugs.  When I came back home last year, we started to built our friendship again. When I was in Denmark for my pet scan, I received a phone call from Marin. She was in rehab and had gotten permission to phone me. We had the most intimate conversation about our struggles and how we were gonna be there for each other during them, me with my cancer and she with her demons. We made plans to learn Indian cooking and learn Bollywood dancing among other things. That was the last I heard from Marin as she died shortly after she came home from rehab. I miss her so much.

Me, Marín & Katrín during our confirmation

Me, Marín & Katrín during our confirmation

I will never forget these two incredible ladies. Their strength, intelligence and beauty. The time we had together and our memories. I will forever miss and love them. I pledge to survive this cancer and to live a long productive life. And at some point during my live I will write my memoir where I will make their memory immortal.

 

The result of my pet scan & my emotional melt down


I’ve been meaning to write a blog about the result from the pet scan, but there has been so much going on this past week that I have been too emotionally overwhelmed to find the moment to sit down and write the blog. The good news is that, there was nothing worst that came out of the pet scan from what we already knew. I still only have metastatic in the liver and nowhere else in the body, thank god for that. The doctor says once my fertility process is over, I will start chemotherapy and first I will have 3 rounds of chemo with 3 weeks apart and then after that the doctors will decide if I have an operation at that point to remove the metastatic in my liver or continue with chemo. 

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At the hospital cancer ward waiting room, waiting for the result from the pet scan

Emotionally I have been in a downward spiral since the annual festival dinner of my search and rescue team the past weekend. My search and rescue team hold a lottery raffle every year at the event and this year, they decided to give all the proceeds toward my cancer battle. Which I thought was so generous of them and I wanted show my appreciation by making my attendance. But maybe battling cancer and being around drunk people don’t mix too well. I was feeling very positive and in the fighting spirit that I have been for the weeks leading up to it and most people complimented me on my strength and resilience. However, sometimes when people get drunk they loose any sense of what is appropriate and there was one such drunk individual, that all though meaning well, said all the wrong things, enough to ruin the evening for me and not just the evening, but the rest of my weekend. There are certain things that you simply don’t say to people with cancer and you can actually find such lists on the internet if you are not sure what that is. The things he said to me, that upset me were that all the people he knew that thad suffered cancer had all died from it, if not straight away, then in 10 – 15 year, once it had return and that he would cry at my funeral. Ravi was furious when he heard what he said and told me that I should have told him back that sooner I would cry at his funeral. This is the reason why I really need Ravi here with me. He is always  ready to fight my corner if I am not able to do it myself and he always knows what to say to make me feel better and to make me smile.

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With my friends at the annual festival dinner of my search & rescue team

The same weekend my family had a another shock that I can not disclose here as it still a sensitive subject and not mine to tell. Following that I started my fertility treatment, which make me hyper emotional and not equipped to handle any stressful situation, like the one with Ravis visa process, which seems to take forever. By the end of this week I was on the verge of having emotional break down when my mother took me out of the city to a cabin in the country side. It was crucial for me at that point to change my environment and get a break from reality. I am feeling much better now and I intend to stay here a little longer.Perhaps I will feel more motivated to write while I am here.

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Enjoying cosy time at the cabin with the people I love

My pet scan trip to Denmark

Last week I had to go to Denmark for a pet scan. Iceland does now have a pet scanner, recently given to us by Kári Stefánsson of Decode. However we have yet to build a house for it and the ironic thing is, that I can literally look at where the building is going to stand out my bedroom window. It will be about 100 m from my house. But it wasn’t all bad having to go to Denmark. I actually enjoyed it, because I decided that I would.

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Map of Copenhagen

Traveling to Denmark just for a pet scan sounded like such a waste of a journey. Denmark is a wonderful country and much worth the visit. So I decided to stay few more days. The pet scan was scheduled for Thursday, so we flew out on Wednesday. Me and my mother that is. My cousin Kristin came with a train from Södertälje, Sweden, that same day and we met at the hotel which the hospital had recommended to us, as it’s just around the corner from Rigshospitalet in Copenhagen.

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The following day I had the pet scan. I have to say, I was impressed with the Rigshospitalet and the Danish public healthcare. I couldn’t help noticing that there were no card machines at the reception when I came. I also like the little touches the hospital staff had done to the pet scanner. They had stuck butterfly stickers inside the scanner, so that the person lying inside it had something pleasant to look at for the 25 minutes the scan took. After the scan I felt really dizzy and weak. It was 16:00 in the day and I had not eaten anything, plus they pump your veins with some chemicals. Thankfully they do stock up on sandwiches and juice in the waiting room, so I could gorge on that while waiting for my mother and my cousin to come back for me. Then we headed downtown and the first thing that I wanted at that point was a McDonalds. Yeah judge me all you want, but I just needed some quick fix energy because I was still feeling so very dizzy and weak and that is what I was craving at the time.  After that we went to a bar and ordered a large beer and they brought us a HUGE beer. It took us 2 hours to drink that thing, but after that I was feeling back to normal. Well they do tell you to hydrate after the scan, I’m sure they don’t mean with beer, but it sure hell worked.

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The next day, Friday, we went shopping because I needed some comfy cloths for chemo…and some cosmetics, girl can never have too much cosmetics ;). Because my energy levels aren’t great, we had to make a lot of stops. By the end of the day I was really dragging my feet and I was pale as a ghost, but I wanted to be sure I had covered everything so I didn’t give up until we were completely done. My mother had to drag me to the hotel in the evening, because I had used up every bit of my energy. It’s kinda of a downer when your 60 year old mother is more energetic than you after a whole day of shopping, but that’s just cancer for you. She had to fight my corner in some of the last shops, because the shop assistants would just walked right trough me, that’s how pale I was. But it was all well worth it.

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On Saturday, the daughter of my grandfathers sister, Friðrika, came and picked us up from the hotel and took us to her home town of Solrød Strand. It was my first time out of Copenhagen and I have to say it was refreshing to experience something different from the city. Solrød Strand is an exceptionally adorable little towns by beautiful white beach. If I didn’t already have such a vivid dream of me and Ravi living in a beautiful villa by the banks of the Ganges, then I wouldn’t mind living by the beach at Solrød Strand. There we also saw the oldest house in Denmark…or at least that is what Friðrika says.

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On Sunday we visited my parents old friends at Roskilde, which is another stunning town in Denmark with a remarkable cathedral, where all the former kings of Denmark are buried. It’s probably also worth mentioning the famous music festival which takes place there every summer…I have yet to go. Never say never they say and I have always thought that was a good advice to follow. We flew home the following Monday. Next time I will visit Denmark, Ravi will be with me. For sure!

Appreciation for all I have received

The past week has been crazy. After I published my last blog post and posted it on my Facebook, my aunt shared it on and before I knew it a journalist had contacted me wanting to do an interview with me. At first I was reluctant to do an interview and I took a day to carefully consider. After a while I though, hell if some should do it, than that someone should be me as I believe I have the strength stand with it. I wanted to do it for us all, all of us that are not only battling cancer but also the financial burden that comes with being diagnosed with a serious illness. Not only is it costly, but because of our illness, we are not able to work and earn regular salary. It is really unfair considering that a large prosentige of our monthly salary goes into paying tax. One should have thought that if getting sick, we would be compensated. But that doesn’t seem to be the case. Because of this, the journalist suggested that we would start a donation for me with the article, to help me with the financial burden. I was  not expecting much. I was certainly not expecting the impact the article was going to have. Many posted it on Facebook and the comments that followed, showed the anger in the society toward the state of our healthcare system. There was an outcry for its restoration. There was even a mention of my interview at the parliament. But that wasn’t all I was surprised by, nor all the financial support a received, which by the way went above my expectation. But also all the amazing energy I received from all the people thinking about me, praying for me, sending me a healing light. I never thought I would actually feel it, but somehow it did. I could feel it prickling my skin and entering me, filling my heart with love and my soul with peace. I have been feeling so incredibly thankful and touched by all the help I have received, some even coming from complete strangers. I am full of appreciation for all the donations I have received and for all the love and all the light. Thank you all so very, very much.

If you speak Icelandic, you can read the interview here.

I have stage 4 primary peritoneal cancer

Four weeks ago the surgeon called me for a meeting to tell me the result of the tests following my operation between Christmas and New Years Eve. It was my 3rd day at a new job and I was feeling positive and excited about my future. This year was supposed to be a new start. I was going to settle down in Reykjavík with my fiancé Ravi, have a steady job and save up for an apartment and for maternity leave, because me and Ravi were planing to start a family within the next two years. The plan was also to get married this summer. I was not expecting the news I got. “You have malignant cancer”. “Say what?!”. I had been told during my illness, last year and during the time I spent in hospital in September and October that I did not have cancer, so this was the last thing I expected to hear. In fact I was so sure that I was OK that I did not even bring anyone with me. I sat there on my own receiving these dreadful news. Of course the doctor who delivered the news should have known to warn me to take someone with me as she knew the severity of the news she was about to deliver. But no, I was there alone and I was neither offered consolation or guidance. I was told that I most likely had a very rare type of sarcoma cancer, one that had never before been diagnosed in Iceland and that my specimen had been sent to Boston, USA, for further diagnoses. All I could do was to wait.

For three weeks I waited for a result from this diagnoses. I was going mentally crazy, it was like torture. It was so difficult to get up in the morning and put on a brave face and face the day. Because I hadn’t been offered any guidance I seeked guidance myself from Kraftur, an organization giving support and guidance to young people battling cancer. This organization is doing an amazing job and they helped me during my difficult wait. They provided me with guidance, consolation, information and more. On Thursday, February 4th I was having lunch with my work colleagues when I had a phone call from my surgeon telling me that the specialist in Boston, who she said were the best in the world, weren’t sure any more if I had that rare type of sarcoma, they weren’t really sure what type of cancer I had and if it originated there in the abdomen as previously thought. I felt like I had been thrown into a black pit. What did that mean? Did I have some type of cancer that they did not know? Did I have a tumour somewhere else in my body they didn’t know about? They knew about the tumour they removed from my abdomen wall and the the one in my liver, but did I have tumours somewhere else? I was left with more questions than answers and feeling completely mentally and emotionally overwhelmed. For a week I could not face real life or speak to anyone outside my family.

Then last Thursday the cancer specialist, Helgi Sigurðsson, that I have been waiting to hear from finally contacted me and invited me for an interview. He apologized for the wait and what I had been put through and for the mistake that was made in the beginning with the wrong diagnoses. He told me that I had stage 4 peritoneal cancer, also a rear cancer, though not as rear as the one they initially thought I had. It was hard to hear that my cancer had already progressed to stage 4, but at the same time I was relieved to know the truth and finally have a plan. The first thing on the plan is that I have to go to Denmark for a pet scan, because we don’t have one in Iceland and then they are doing everything they can to bring Ravi here as soon as possible. Ravi is in India as he had to go back home because he can only get a temporary work visa as a specialist guide. The visa process usually takes 3 months, which would only bring him here at first in mid April, but due to changed circumstances it has become a pressing matter to get him here as soon as possible. Before I can start chemotherapy, I need to fertilize eggs with his sperm and freeze for later use, as the chemotherapy might affect my fertility. I will be damned if I don’t at least get the opportunity to have children that will in some way resemble in appearance the man I love. I have been dreaming about it for too long. Once that is done, the chemotherapy can start, which will be at least a 6 month process, where I will also most likely be operated on at some point too.

All I can say now is let the battle commence! I will fight this and I will survive this. Tough times don’t last, tough people do…and I will last until I’m at least 100 😉

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